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    craftingmom
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Neko Shorts - 1. Prompt #370--The Gift

Prompt #370--Use these words in a story: turkey, gift, flowers, blue sweater, and pen.
I have to say this one was challenging (which makes it my favorite and why I want to post it first) because I don't image them having any sweaters in the 'Neko Universe' (which is Renaissance-like, not modern). So figuring out that part of the prompt was ... interesting.

Prompt # 370--Use these words:

turkey, gift, flowers, blue sweater, and pen

 

The Gift

 

Damien Whitmore, the Duke of Marsten, looked up at the knock on his door. He sighed heavily as he replaced the elegant quill pen in its holder so it didn't bleed ink all over his papers.

His manservant, John Drystan, poked his head in the door. Damien could see by the look on the man's face that he was agitated about something.

"Yes, John, what is it?" the young duke rubbed the headache forming from working numbers all morning.

"Lord Druet has sent over a gift for the Spring Festival next week," John stated. "He brought it with him from the Southern Isles."

"That's very nice of him. I'll send him a thank you in a while. I need to get these accounts finished," Damien said, starting to pick up his pen again.

Damien looked back up when the servant still hovered in the doorway. "Is there more?"

John shifted uneasily. "Um, yes, sir," the man said. "Garin sent me to ask for your help."

"My help?" Damien queried, raising his brow curiously, wondering just what his head chef thought he could do to help out in the kitchens. "And how would I be of any help to him?"

"Well, it's not in the kitchen he needs your assistance, sir. It's the poultry corral," John stated.

"The corral?" Damien frowned, "Is there something wrong with the chickens? Are they falling sick?" He abruptly rose from his chair. If the fowl got sick, it would seriously affect their food supplies, especially with the Spring Festival on the horizon. "Why wasn't I informed sooner?"

Damien was already striding past the servant on his way towards the kitchen. The manor's large poultry corral currently held only chickens, although they'd had geese and turkey as well. The chickens were the staple, though, providing not only meat but also eggs. It was vital that the chicken coop was maintained in good, healthy conditions.

"Uh, no, sir," John stated. "The chickens are fine."

Damien swung around quickly, his elbow knocking into the vase of flowers--lilies, asters, and daisies--that graced the foyer. John was quick to snatch up the ornamental vase before it could crash to the floor.

"Then what the hell is going on?" Damien snapped, irritated he was being interrupted.

"It's--it's Kayden, sir," John stammered, quickly fixing the flower arrangement.

Damien's brows shot up. "Kayden?"

"Yes, sir," John stated. "He's--he's, uh, hunting."

"Hunting? In the corral?" Damien stared in disbelief as a slow smirk appeared on John Drystan's face.

"Yes, sir," John said. "He was fascinated by Lord Druet's gift. He'd never seen one before."

Damien pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "And what, pray tell, did Oliver send over?"

"A peacock," John stated. "Kayden saw it as we put it in the corral for safe keeping until the festival. He... he chased it into the corral. Of course, it flared up its tail, and the chickens--"

"Oh, shit," Damien almost laughed as he turned to the kitchen once again. He raced through the kitchen, vaguely noting how unusually empty it was.

As he burst out the door and jogged toward the poultry corral that was located some yards away from the house, he noticed a smattering of servants and slaves crowding around the wooden, fenced area. He could hear quite a bit of laughter that nearly drowned out the yelling.

"Stop! Get out of there!" he could hear Garin's voice raised above the amused chuckles. "You're scaring all my chickens!"

Indeed, even though his view of the chicken coop was blocked by the gathered onlookers, he could hear the squawking and fluttering of wings, small downy feathers drifting up over the wooden pickets of the corral. Damien pushed aside a couple slaves before they noticed him. They parted quickly to let him through, their laughter quieting slightly with the appearance of their master.

Damien skidded to a halt as he saw Garin standing at the corral gate with Nickolaus and Ysmenia, both of whom were trying to contain their laughter in front of the grumpy chef. He nearly choked when he saw Kayden perched on the top of the chicken house that lined one side of the corral, his green eyes wide and glittering as he stalked closer to the beautiful iridescent sapphire and emerald bird below, whose tail was flared wide, showing its distress at being prey.

Damien almost burst out in laughter at the sight of his young lover, barefoot, his lean limbs wrapped in his favorite loose trousers and sleeveless cotton shirt. His black ears were pricked forward as he stilled, his sleek ebony tail held low and barely twitching. Damien suddenly recognized the stance. Oh, shit.

"Kayden!" he shouted, attempting to stop the boy before he pounced on the elegant bird.

But he was a second too late. Kayden's long lean legs launched him from his perch toward the posturing bird. Squawking chickens suddenly fluttered into the air, filling the area with a tiny white feathers.

By the time Damien had whipped open the gate, hoping no chickens escaped, Kayden had pinned the poor bird to the ground on its side and had his fangs loosely wrapped around its long neck.

"Kayden!" Damien exclaimed, ignoring the gasps and laughter behind him.

His young neko lover looked up at him, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "If haf blue sweaters!" the boy said gleefully with his mouth full of the bird's neck, his hand sliding over the brightly colored feathers of the bird.

"Let the bird go," Damien commanded, trying to keep a straight face, as the poor peacock squawked pitifully in fear, it's feet scrabbling uselessly at the ground.

Kayden released the peacock abruptly, grinning at the beautiful bird as it skittered away as quickly as it could to the corner of the corral. "It has blue feathers!" he repeated excitedly, now that his mouth wasn't full of the bird's neck.

Damien pursed his lips as he tried to look stern. "Yes, it's called a peacock, kitten. And it's feathers are very pretty. Can you please come out now and leave the poor bird alone?"

Kayden bounded toward his master, still smiling at the huge colorful bird, eyes wide with wonder. Damien wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulder and guided him from the corral. Garin was glaring at the young neko, while Ysmenia and Nickolaus hurried to close the gate before harried chickens tried to make their escape.

"Why does it have blue feathers?" Kayden asked in awe as he glanced back at the cowering bird. "Where did it come from? What--?"

"Kayden, slow down," Damien chuckled as he led the ebony haired neko through the slowly dispersing throng of servants. "Oliver sent the bird as a gift for the Spring Festival in a few days. It's a bird that's common in the Southern Isles."

"It's pretty. I want to hold it again," Kayden murmured.

"Looks like you were about to eat it," Damien said.

"It wouldn't stay still," Kayden pouted. "I had to catch it."

"Well, you can eat it at the festival. I'm sure Garin will make it into a tasty dish."

Kayden's eyes widened in shock. "No!"

"What?" Damien startled.

Kayden tried to dart out of his arm back toward the corral.

"I want to keep it," Kayden insisted, trying to tug out of Damien's grasp to go save the bird he'd just had his jaw clamped on. "It's too pretty to eat."

Damien chuckled. "This from the person who just had his fangs buried in its neck."

"I didn't!" Kayden insisted. "I was just holding it still. To pet it."

"Fine," Damien laughed. "We'll keep the bird. Just stop scaring it."

Damien looked down to see the pleased grin on his young slave's face. He couldn't help but to lean down and kiss the boy's forehead. Such innocence, he thought. God, how I love him.

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought! Hope you enjoyed it.
Copyright © 2015 craftingmom; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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